


Sundry Small Stories

by Elleth



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: F/F, Gen, M/M, short story collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-27 23:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17171627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/pseuds/Elleth
Summary: What it says on the tin; shorter stories for events, challenges, prompt memes and just-because. Reposted from tumblr for backup purposes.





	1. Chapter 1

**“I heard you scream. Nightmares again?” - Emil/Lalli**

The concrete vault of the pickup spot echoes, and Emil is on his feet at the first noise he hears through the open door from the bunk adjacent to his, where Lalli has built himself a nest under the bed.

From someone as silent as Lalli, any sound of distress rings like a thunderclap, but by now - they’re half into their fourth night waiting for the team - Emil has learned not to intercept unless Lalli starts screaming.

It doesn’t take him long, and it doesn’t take Emil more than a few strides to Lalli’s bedside where his knees hit the cold concrete and pull Lalli into the open, bundle of blankets and all. Emil ducks the fists that come flying at his face and shifts Lalli so they pummel his shoulder, harmlessly, then clench into the fabric of his shirt. When Lalli wakes and quiets, Emil strides up the stairs into the open; after pulling Lalli’s unconscious body through half of Denmark, carrying him makes little difference.

The pickup spot is situated in an old farmstead not a hundred meters from the sea, and the sound of water seems to calm Lalli as much as Emil’s presence does. It soothes Emil’s nerves, too, to think that this is where the ship will anchor not long ahead now. Now if only Sigrun and the rest of them show up on time… but they will. They will.

There’s a stretch of un-fortified shore where Emil sets Lalli down, leaning against his shoulder with his long legs stretched out bare into the sand. Neither of them complains about the cold. Neither of them talks much at all. The barrier between them that was absent while Lalli lived in Emil’s head is back, and they’ve said all that they needed to say, then. Now they’re left at the beginning all over again.

It’s sentimental, but Emil misses having Lalli there, close though he is. He misses it badly, so he dares words regardless. “I heard you scream. Nightmares again?”

Lalli, whose eyes were half-closed, blinks them open and lifts his head to look at Emil. His eyes catch the moonlight and reflect silver; then he nods briefly. They’ve mimed out this question before, Lalli must have memorized the sound of it. And Emil could ask what about - it’d take only a few words or a name - but Lalli forestalls him. A long-fingered hand cups the side of Emil’s face, taps his temple and says, “Not here. Lonely.”

Then he leans his head back against Emil’s shoulder and closes his eyes again. The ordeals they’ve been through - and most of them Emil’s fault - have left their mark on Lalli. He needs the rest, and this is the best ease for loneliness that Emil can think of at present. It doesn’t do much.

“Yes, lonely,” Emil agrees with a quiet sigh, and tucks his nose into Lalli’s hair, inhaling. Lalli’s fingers fold through his, and then relax.

“Better,” he says. “Little.”


	2. Chapter 2

**“It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.” - CoH/SSSS Crossover, Sigrun/Tuuri**

“That so?” Sigrun’s voice was low, still heavy out of another past-dream; drowsiness made her not question the lie. “Shit. What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. Just… storm’s loud. Snow Spider alarm earlier.”

“Both at once, huh.” Now she sounded unconvinced. Tuuri wouldn’t elaborate; she hated dreaming of the Swan, and Sigrun carried enough guilt for them both since The Program had unlocked her memories.

“Yeah.” Tuuri calculated a response, touching Sigrun’s cheek. “If you remember any more names, I’ll jack myself in and run another search.” She tried a smile next. “Won’t even need to leave the bed for it…”


	3. Chapter 3

**“There is enough room for both of us.” - Emil/Lalli**

“No,” Lalli said, glancing around the dining room. There _was_ more than enough room in Emil’s soul for a hundred people to live there, but - “No. It’s wrong, to stay forever. My body would die if I stayed here. My time is already running out.”

_He had to leave. Emil’s expression, half-hidden under Lalli’s fur cloak, made him look like a sad child. Even when Lalli carefully smoothed down his hair, it didn’t sparkle._

_“But if I find a way between, maybe I can visit,” he said, close to Emil’s ear. “Or you visit me. There’s enough room there, too.”_


	4. Chapter 4

**“I bought you a ticket.” - Sigrun/Tuuri**

“Eeeee, you d-, I mean, I can’t repay you, not since Torbjörn ripped-”

“Yeah, wellllll, thing is…” Sigrun paused for effect; on the other side of the radio she could hear clothes rustling and pictured Tuuri leaning forward eagerly towards the speaker, perhaps expecting a romantic Yule getaway invitation to Dalsnes. Cute. But. “… Onni hasn’t told you.”

“Onni… what?” A barrage of angry Finnish followed, and Sigrun caught “kusipää” somewhere in the middle of it, close after Onni’s name.

“Okay, Fuzzy, if you’re done calling your brother a piss-head, I’ll give you the expedition details. Nordic Council wants us back.”


	5. Chapter 5

**“Watch your step.” - Ensi & Onni**

Onni’s slipping foot plunged into the water. He froze. Just for his sake, Ensi trapped a swear behind her teeth. He was strong in magic, but would always take reprimands to heart. If he wanted to survive - and if she wanted him to survive - he’d need to learn. Here, unlike the waking world, she could let experience be his teacher.

He hadn’t moved from his rock. The dreamworld waters behind him surged and boiled. Ensi focused on the creature, willing it higher. Hands erupted in showers of spray, grasping.

An owl took wing. Ensi watched with a brief, private smile.


	6. Chapter 6

**Stand Still Stay Silent - Tuuri - flight**

Wings

In sleep they carried you  
Further than waking allowed. The sky and the lakes  
And the air, yours to roam wide until  
Waking.

In death they carry you  
Further than even dreams can. The Birds’ Path,  
In swanwings’ wake, should feel like freedom, until  
Sleeping.

In life they’ll carry you  
Further than ever before. From ice to sky again,  
Fluttering backwards into open spring air, until  
Returning.


	7. Chapter 7

**“We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?” - Onni/Reynir**

“Yeah, why? We don’t really get thunderstorms at home,” Reynir tilted his head back and opened his mouth to catch the falling rain, his tongue flicking up at individual droplets. “Is this bad?” He was grinning, open-mouthed, without a care in the world. Onni hurriedly looked away; heat in his cheeks flaring even under the cold water. Now of all times…

Thunder boomed overhead, lightning and another burst of sound in its wake, and a gust of wind set the pines swaying underneath the racing clouds. Reynir’s braid whipped around his head; he laughed, and the wind tore the sound from his mouth.

Onni scowled. “This isn’t the dreamworld. We should go inside before you’re struck by lightning!”

“I’m named after Thor, it won’t hurt me,” Reynir said, still grinning as he danced out of the tree cover into a clearing, and peeled away his overcoat to let the rain soak through his thin turtleneck. Onni tried hard not to stare at the outline of his collarbones under the material. He must have paused to stare a moment too long, because Reynir hurried back to him, grabbed his hands, and pulled him out into the full rain.

Thunder rolled and faded; a brighter edge to the clouds not far away. “Aw, it’s already done?” Reynir tilted his head back to squint at the change in the weather, and Onni breathed a secret sigh of gratitude. He was not going to tell Reynir that he, too, was named after a god of thunder, but it seemed Ukko smiled on him at least a little.

“Yes. Let’s go inside and get out of these wet clothes.” Onni freed his hands and crossed his arms.

“Oh! I like the way that sounds!” Reynir laughed and winked at him.

 _Ukko have mercy_ , Onni thought. _As much as you can spare._


	8. Chapter 8

**“Wanna dance?” - Sigrun/Tuuri**

“You can _dance_?” Tuuri squeaked. She looked around hurriedly and eyed a tall, potted palm tree at the back of the ballroom as though she’d rather be hiding than anything else. “B-because I can’t, not really… there really wasn’t that much opportunity for it in Keuruu, and anyway, Onni never let -”

“I’ll teach you!” Sigrun cut off the anxious ramble, bowing low in the elegant dress and laughing. “What your brother won’t know won’t hurt him, right? Don’t let him spoil our fun when he’s not even in sight! I think Reynir is keeping his promise about distracting him.”

“I… guess?” Tuuri still wasn’t looking at Sigrun, but the flush in her cheeks that’d been there most of the evening, but at the very least since the first glass of Bornholm wine, was turning into a deeper red. She still seemed like she’d rather hide. “But not where everyone can see. They’ll all be staring at us anyway, this is all in our honour, and…”

“… and you don’t want the headlines to be all about how the main attraction came back from the dead and still couldn’t dance, yeah, yeah. Your underworld is stupid anyway, you’d have found someone to teach you in Valhalla, just saying. So if this happens again, you may wanna pop over there; I bet the Valkyries won’t mind. Or at least you’ll learn sword-fighting, that’s kinda like dancing, so you can improvise. So. Are we taking this outside? To your room, if you’d rather…”

Tuuri made a strangled sound that was halfway between stifled laughter and a hiccup. Her face was strawberry red under the elegant sweep her normally messy fuzz had been combed into, then she turned and fled out the large glass doors to the terrace.

Sigrun followed, more slowly. She could see Tuuri stand just outside the circle of light from the windows, and was briefly glad how much of a second nature it’d become to find her anywhere at just a glance - especially in the dark - the dark of Tuonela, the Finnish forests in autumn on their way home, and now, the dark outside the fanciest restaurant in Saimaa. The Finnish branch of the Nordic Council had been quite impressed by their feat.

“Hey, Short Stuff.” Sigrun joined her outside, letting the door slide shut behind her to keep the chill from drafting in and catching the attention of other ball guests. “You’re not cold?”

“N-not really?” Tuuri rubbed her hands up and down her arms, and didn’t object when Sigrun stepped up close to pull her into an embrace, hands settling on Tuuri’s hips eventually. “There. And now you just start moving. It’ll keep you warmer than just standing here, you know. And that’s all there is to dancing.”

There was music filtering out dimly through the windows, enough to sway in its rhythm at least a little. It wasn’t what Sigrun had pictured when she’d asked Tuuri to dance, but all things considered, she liked it even better.


	9. Chapter 9

**Any fandom, any character, searching for a trail to follow again (lyrics from Lord Huron’s “The Night We Met”) - Tuuri & Ensi**

Tuonela has no trails, only rock islands and water and a foxfire-and-star sky that stretches endlessly overhead, and Tuuri despairs of ever finding the trail home. Not even scouts, like Lalli or Grandma, could do that, and of course Lalli is alive, so he's no help, and Grandma, even being a mage, is probably asleep as she ought to be, and as Tuuri ought to be if she hadn't dreamt so hard of being awake and alive and free again that she woke herself up. 

She fears even her _sielulintu_ wings will get tired before she finds the Birds' Path, if the Swan that is approaching out of the dark doesn't get her first to put her back into her bed under the ice - but no, Tuuri realizes, seeing the shining pinions approach - it's not Tuonela's guardian - it's another _sielulintu_ that swoops beneath her, cushions her smaller form in its spirit feathers and takes off toward the endless sky, past the foxfires swirling green around them, where the myriad of stars turn into birds all across the firmament, and grandma's voice says, "There's your way home."


	10. Chapter 10

**Sigrun/Tuuri, a scar that won't easily heal**

As a rule, Sigrun wears her scars proudly, loves to show them off at the slightest provocation, and keeps them as marks of survival rather than the opposite - apart from one, which stays invisible to all but one other person. 

Tuuri places her hand hesitantly on the bare skin above Sigrun's heart, the curve of her breast, asking "Here, that's where?" and Sigrun nods with eyes wide and throat tight. "Almost getting your heart ripped out takes time to heal," she says, and Tuuri breathes something that might be an apology, halfway, before Sigrun kisses her silent with more force than necessary - after all, Tuuri came back, she came back, and it was never Tuuri's fault.


End file.
